


A Sway for Shattered Souls

by Rose_Lattes



Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort, widojest week 2019 baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-08
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2020-06-24 21:36:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,573
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19732237
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rose_Lattes/pseuds/Rose_Lattes
Summary: “I could be worried about nothing, but if your mother has been compromised in some way, it is too late. But, it is not too late for your child, Nott.”Takes place after episode 64. Inspired by Laura’s, “I have trouble sleeping that night.” This is disregarding the order of watch displayed in episode 65.Made for Widojest Week 2019





	A Sway for Shattered Souls

_“I could be worried about nothing, but if your mother has been compromised in some way, it is too late. But, it is not too late for your child, Nott.”_

As much as Jester Lavorre wished to cry, the tears would not come. Fear, a big black wall built by Caleb’s dismissive tone and heart-wrenching reality, stood like a dam between her heart and her eyes. Her mother would be fine. She had to be. Jester could not fathom a future without Marion in it, and she never truly thought of losing her until Caleb had _told_ her that if Marion faced trouble, they wouldn’t be able to save her. Caleb had spoken as if it were a prophecy as if he did not believe Jester could save her own kin.

Perhaps, that is what stung the most, what locked Jester’s tears away. Her own companion, her _friend_ , had spoken to her with such apathy. He had used Marion’s safety as an example to convince Nott to agree with him. He disregarded the weight of his words, and that had made it all the worse.

Jester never thought she would be disregarded by Caleb. Fjord, yes. Beau, sometimes. Never Caleb. Time after time, he had shown her that he saw her. Truly _saw_ her. They confided in one another. She trusted him, and she would continue to trust him. But he had hurt her tonight, and he was the reason that she could not cry.

She spent the first three hours of the night fidgeting with the edge of her bedroll and the buckle of her belt, mulling over the possibility of her mother’s demise. She glanced across the fire. Nott rested with her head against Caleb’s legs. Beneath the crackle of the fire, Caduceus’ snores decorated the hut in a gentle cadence. Everyone slumbered, besides Fjord. Sitting cross-legged, Fjord kept watch with half-lidded eyes.

Jester quietly stood. She gently tapped Fjord on the shoulder and told him to get some rest; she would take the rest of his watch. He gladly accepted, and Jester swore he had fallen asleep before he hit his mat.

Standing near the exit of the hut, Jester crossed her arms and held herself. While it was too dark to see, she could imagine the Barbed Fields staring back at her with its desolated land and flat horizon. She was glad it was dark. Cradling her arms with tender hands, Jester allowed herself a glance to the stars.

As a child, she often took pleasure in the twinkling lights of the sky. It was her reminder of the great unknown. A reminder that there was more than just the halls of the Lavish Chateau. Her mother often accompanied her out onto the balcony, and the two would connect the brightest stars to form constellations.

Without intending to, Jester started to hum. It was a soft song that did not carry far. A personal melody, one which her mother would sing to her when she was feeling down. Lost to the memories and the brilliant stars, Jester did not hear the footsteps behind her.

Caleb was at her shoulder, hands stuffed within his pockets and brown hair wild from stressful sleep. Jester stopped humming. “You don’t take watch until dawn,” she said softly, keeping her eyes focused on the dark night.

“I am not here for watch,” Caleb said, not only matching Jester’s volume but tenderness, as well.

Jester’s brows dipped as she struggled with his meaning. Still holding herself, she dug her toe into the dry dirt and turned to look at him. She kept her lips parted, unsure if she wanted to speak or not.

Blue eyes, navy under the touch of night, flickered between the Barbed Fields and Jester. Caleb swallowed his compunction. “That song,” he started.

Jester shook her head and frowned. “I didn’t mean to wake you,” she apologized, upset by his tone. Unlike earlier in the evening, he was gentle. She wondered if he was trying to brush his behavior off by speaking as he normally did. She did not like it.

“You didn’t.”

Afraid of showing him the pain in her expression, Jester turned back to the Barbed Fields. Silence hung between them. Jester hated silence. Silence surrounded her childhood like a thick blanket, and she would often ramble to combat its grasp. Tonight it was a struggle, for she really did not wish to speak, but Caleb was standing there, waiting for her to say something, to pretend to be usual self, to pretend that nothing was wrong.

“It was my mama’s song,” she supplied.

Caleb looked at her. She could feel his frown. He frowned with his entire face. She would consider it one of his many talents. “Do not speak with past tense,” he lectured.

Unable to hide the twitch of her lips, Jester turned to him. Her arms fell to her side, and she crumbled before him. “But, you said—”

“I know what I said,” he interjected. His brow was low, and his tone had shifted down, reminiscent of earlier that night. His façade had not lasted long. “I remember every word, every volatile syllable that left my mouth.” His lips stretched as grief took hold of his features. “But that was me, not you. Do not speak like that.”

“I don’t understand, Caleb.”

“It was wrong of me to speak to you the way I did. I am full of this, this _pessimism_.” His voice was shaking, and he raised his hand to gesture to her. “And you are not.” He sounded so lost, and Jester wanted to reach out to him, tether his body to hers, so he could not drift off too far. But, she stayed still and let him unravel. “When I first met you, I promised myself that I would not tarnish your innocence. Your hope. But tonight, I broke that promise, and I’ve- I’ve tainted you with the toxic doubt that fills my mind.” He held his hands together and slowly shook his head, his brown hair, red when the firelight hit it just right, scattered across his face. He made no move to fix it. “I—you are bright. Do not let my presence in your life dim you.” He met her eyes in a heart-bearing plea.

Jester took an unsteady breath, ripples of emotions caused her chest to heave. “Caleb, it’s okay.”

“It is not. It is okay not to be ‘okay,’ Jester. You have the right to be mad.”

“I’m not,” she confessed, lowering her voice to try to convince him it was the truth. It was the truth. She forgave him. It was an easy thing to do, despite how gravely he had hurt her. He stared at her in disbelief, waiting for her to take her words back, to yell, to scream at him for threatening her perception. She would do no such thing; she would never do that, not to _him._ Because, while Jester was not broken, not yet, she could tell he was, and as an unbroken, she felt it was her duty to help him. And, if helping him meant forgiving him when he hurt her, she would do just that, even if he had left a scar.

Slowly, she raised her hand toward him, offering him her palm and slightly curved fingers. It was her turn to plea. Caleb glanced to her hand, brows low and lips quivering. “Will you dance with me?” she asked softly.

She watched as he battled with his answer before he raised his own hand and set it in hers. His gloved palm covered hers in a tender grasp, and his fingers curled around her blue skin. She stepped closer to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

“You talked to her tonight,” Caleb muttered as Jester began to rock back and forth.

“Yes,” she answered.

“You will talk to her tomorrow night as well?

“Yes.”

“Good.”

They did not waltz. Instead, Jester simply rocked them from left to right to left again. It was a gentle rock that neither of them rushed. Caleb removed his hand from hers, and Jester was about to break away, not wishing to push the man’s comfort. But instead of halting their movement, he continued to sway. He placed his hand on the back of her head and pulled her into a soft hug. He rested his chin between her horns, and she nestled her ear into his chest. She could hear his heartbeat through the cloth of his shirt, and she closed her eyes.

They continued their swaying embrace for a few moments before Caleb’s chest vibrated beneath Jester’s cheek. “That song you were humming,” he said softly. “Can you continue? I’d like to hear how it goes.”

Pleased by his request, Jester began to hum the melody imprinted along her heart. Caleb held her as they rocked from side to side. He listened intently to the order of the notes, remembering them with ease and by Jester’s third repetition, he had joined her. With his low timbre, they hummed in simple harmony, never once dipping into dissonance. Beneath the constellations, embraced by someone she loved, singing the song of her childhood, Jester cried. The release of emotions she had so longed for came in languid tears that left her refreshed and undaunted. She smiled. If Caleb felt her tears staining his shirt, he made no move to address it.


End file.
